Temascal

To end a whirlwind week, our yogic gardening class decided to travel to a village in the mountains and participate in a sacred ritual called a Temascal, or sweat lodge. Many people were interested in going, but in the end only two can be Mexico's. next. top...oh wait. Only Emily and I ended up going.
The buses in Mexico are good quality, regular, and inexpensive, so we took the venture on our own. Sadly we got on one of the more expensive buses, and halfway there realized there were no more buses to our destination that day, and had to hire a 200 peso taxi. You win some, you lose some. Tequepexpan is a small village with more traditional architecture, including stone walls in fields and mud brick houses. The community we visited is outside of the village, and has several permanent residents. Their focus is spiritual, a mixture of indigenous religion and Chrisianity. While the houses are not outstanding in their construction in any conventional sense, there is an underriding current of care and peacefulness. Emily commented on their use of religious symbols as decoration, such as God's Eyes or prayer flags, which help to constantly remind of the connection with the spiritual world. The house was also decorated with a large pile of marijuana on the night table (in my opinion, a huge pile, but I have limited experience in these things).
The mountains opened up a different ecosystem to our willing, prodding eyes, with pine trees with 10" long needles, and scrub brilliantly set off by banana trees. The mountain valley was a quilt of agave, corn, and sugar cane. Behind the "mountains" in the foreground, the real mountains wait, the Sierra Madres, invisible.
We prepared for the Temascal with a sage smudge blessing, prayed over a handful of tobacco and tossed it in the fire. Between eight and ten people participated in the Temascal, Emily and I being the only non-Mexicans, and 2 of the only 3 women. We crawled into the dome, made of willow branches and draped with canvas to keep in the steam. The hole in the center was filled with glowing red rocks. Sirgio, the Shaman, would bless each rock with tobacco and everyone would welcome it into our midst. A five gallon bucket of water stood at convenience and soon the space filled with steam. And just when you think it's blisteringly hot, more water is dumped on and the temperature increases. Anna Paula informed us that we could not leave until the door was opened between the four parts of the ceremony. This made me slightly nervous, but it ended up being fine. Everyone had an opportunity to pray aloud, with singing in between. The Temascal invites all the elements to interact, water, fire, earth, and air. More rocks were added, more water, until breathing in makes no sense and breathing out just stirs the air against your skin. After one hour of this cleansing, we crawled back out. I was immiediately cold again, soaked with sweat in the chilly air. But everyone else was ready for a cool down, so each poured a five gallon bucket of cold water over their heads. So even though I was already cold, I did it too. Gah! But the fire was waiting, and dry clothes.
Simultaneously, a birthday party for a three year old was happening in the open kitchen area. Her whole family was there, including a man named Jaime, who informed me he was 26 (contrary to physical evidence) and before the night was over, told me he loved me. Despite my constantly informing him I had a boyfriend. I thought my new haircut would scare people off, but I guess the pull of legal papers is stronger. The food that evening was absolutley delicious, a cabbage dish, and then crazy with the beans: refried beans, lentils, and garbanzo beans in tomato sauce. Naturally, complemented by corn tortillas. For dessert, they made little corn cakes baked on banana leaves. mmmmm. The evening wore on, and Emily and I both got an extended opportunity to practice our Spanish. Only Anna Paula speaks English, and she was preoccupied with her lover.
As the night wore on, we wandered toward our cabin, which six people shared, Emily and I in one bed next to Anna Paula & co, and two other men on the other side of the wall. One man woke up before dawn and called out into the valley. At dawn, the two men had a conversation in normal volume voices inside the cabin for half an hour. After sunrise, when I found myself alone with the couple, I decided it was time to evacuate. We enjoyed some cinnamon tea in the kitchen, and realized all of our food had been taken by the partiers the night before, accidentally. So we hiked into the village, through the hills and brush rather than on the road, and came upon a little door in the village. Inside was a terraced yard, chickens, kittens, little furry dogs, and an elderly woman in a kitchen. The kitchen had a yellow painted earthen oven and pots, pitcher, and kettles hung on the walls in descending size. We thought we were eating there, and she provided us with mint tea fresh from the garden and some buttery crackers. After half an hour of conversation our guide Ernesto asked if we were ready to leave. It turns out she is the tortilla maker, and we returned to her later in the morning to fetch her homemade corn tortillas, which were like pancakes, delicious and fluffy. We traversed the town, and bought some produce. There is generally a convenience store on every block, and no grocery stores, and they prefer to sell cookies, soda, and chips than food staples. Sometimes I really wonder what the Mexican people eat. Beans, tortillas, and salsa for every meal, I think. Our second trip to the village that afternoon to fetch the tortillas brought us to a different path with our guide Ernesto. We were leaping over fences, running from cows, bounding streams, and climbing like mountain goats. I didn't consider it a "trail" exactly, so much as a possibility.
We enjoyed a nice breakfast and took a leisurely hike up the closest mountain to gain a magnificent view of the valley and the small sierra around us. Anna Paula brought us back to Sayulita and Litibu, and taught us some of the Spanish songs which we heard in the Temascal. It was a blessing to be granted an insight into this amazing Mexican community, their ceremonies, and their hospitality. How is this lesson applied to American hospitality to Mexican visitors or immigrants?